April Showers Bring Gay Flowers
by Rachel Whitmore
Summary: Harry has the hots for Snape. What is he going to do about it?
1. Chapter 1

**April Showers Bring Gay Flowers**

Disclaimer: None of the characters, except Melvin Rook, are mine. They all belong to JRK and other people/institutions involved in the HP universe. I'm making no money off of this. Drat.

A/N: This will be HP/SS. The story was originally meant to belong to Lady Kardasi's zodiac challenge, in response to a first line challenge, but since this is my first fic, it wasn't ready on time. Please review so I know if I should continue. Praise and constructive criticism are very welcome. Flames are not, for one simple reason: If you hate my story so much, you shouldn't be reading it. One last thing: I realize the premise is not exactly unique, but my feeling is that every writer has a different voice, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

Rating is for language and lustful thoughts & allusions. This will probably stay PG-13 because I have never written a sex scene, and I'm not sure I'm ready to try. If that changes, the rating will go up to R.

CHAPTER ONE

"Gay? No way!" Oliver Wood laughed. "Sometimes I'm not sure the greasy bat even _has_ sexual organs. I don't want to think about him actually _using_ them." After several years of playing professional Quidditch, the young man had returned to Hogwarts as Quidditch coach.

"I'm just saying," Harry Potter murmured, looking around for possible eavesdroppers, "that he seems to be getting awfully chummy with that new Muggle Studies professor, whatshisname – Melvin Rook, I think?"

"I don't think Snape gets chummy with _anybody_. Maybe you were seeing things, Harry," Neville Longbottom responded. He was now studying Herbology under Professor Sprout and would soon take the test that would hopefully make him an Herbology Master.

"I'm serious!" Harry exclaimed. "They're always together. Snape has never spent that much time with another professor, ever."

"Well, whatever the reason, it's probably not because they're – eww – seeing each other." Oliver shook his head. "Rook isn't all that attractive himself, and maybe he doesn't have any other prospects, but even so. I mean, who would want to date that ugly bat any – _shit_ . . ." he trailed off, looking over Neville's shoulder as the very devil they were speaking of strode across the staff room floor with thinned lips and darkly glaring eyes.

"I see these past few years have done little to help you mature," he snarled with such force a tiny fountain of spittle sprang from his lips. He either didn't notice or didn't care. "Of course, I had never really expected any of you to grow beyond the fools you were, but you have far under-whelmed even my meager expectations." He aimed a glare specifically at Harry, who imperceptibly winced, knowing the Potions Master had actually expected a bit more from him.

Snape snatched a sheaf of papers from a nearby table and headed toward the door. He turned back just before he left to add, "Seeing as the brats will be returning soon from Easter Holiday, I have lesson plans to prepare. Perhaps you might want to do the same? Except for Potter, of course, whose immensely poor preparation skills seem to have carried over from his student days. Or maybe he still feels his fame will carry him through life?" With a dramatic swirl of black robes, he left.

"Ouch," Oliver muttered. "That was rough. Unfortunately, as much as I hate to say it, I guess he's right. The children will be back in a few days, and we should get to work." He and Neville both bid Harry goodbye and left.

"Well," Harry said unhappily when he was finally alone, "that certainly went well." With a portion of his sleeve he wiped at a droplet of spittle remaining on his cheek from Snape's diatribe.

* * *

He wasn't entirely sure when it had started, other than that it was sometime during his Seventh Year. After the terrible events at the end of Fifth Year, Dumbledore had begun teaching Harry Occlumency, but had still required Harry spend time with Snape. The Headmaster demanded that they at least get to the point where they could tolerate each other, because they were eventually going to have to work together, and dissent would only make the war against Voldemort that much more difficult. 

So during his sixth year, Harry had started serving "detention" with Snape. It was weeks before they could even be civil to each other, months before they could have a reasonably decent conversation. But by the beginning of Seventh Year, they were working relatively well with each other, and while neither would have said they were friends, they could talk, and the insults were considered nothing but banter, except in Potions class where for the sake of his spy cover Snape still had to treat Harry like shit.

And then, of course, Snape's cover just had to get blown. Afterwards, while he still gave preferential treatment to his Slytherins, naturally, and he certainly never gave points to Gryffindor, some of his hostility did ease in his treatment towards the other Houses. Well, it eased as much as possible for a snarky man as set in his ways as Snape is.

At that point, Harry was able to tell the other Gryffindors that the detentions were really just a way for he and Snape to try to get along better. This eased Harry's previous stress about lying to his friends, and he began to actually enjoy said "detentions."

It's when like turned to lust that Harry isn't sure of. Some time during their sessions together, Snape stopped appearing ugly to Harry. Certainly after all that time spent together, one would become somewhat immune to greasy hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. After Harry had his first rather less-than-innocent dream about Snape, he realized that for at least a couple of weeks he had actually been _admiring_ the older man's appearance of all things.

Needless to say, that took some getting over. Not the fact that Harry was lusting after a man – he had long since discovered he preferred men and even had a thing for older men – but Snape? Harry started going out with a very attractive Ravenclaw boy to try to get his mind off Snape, but nothing came of it. So, after a couple of months, Harry became resigned to his attraction to the Potions Master. After a couple more months, and several long sessions in the shower, he actually began to appreciate his feelings for Snape. Until he realized they were going nowhere. Which led to his current predicament.

After Seventh Year (and what was in the end a rather boring defeat of Voldemort), Harry had gone off for two years of training in the Dark Arts and their defense before returning to Hogwarts as the new DADA professor. He had now held this position for almost a year and had been trying to use that time to get closer to Snape. Instead, they had backtracked from where they were before Harry left Hogwarts. Although they were still civil with one another, they no longer spent any time together just talking, and their friendship, if it could be called that, had more or less disintegrated.

And now, Snape thought Harry had been one of the people making fun of him. That hadn't been the point at all! It was just that Harry had never been able to figure out Snape's sexual orientation. He didn't even know if Snape had a sex life – there had been speculation during his years as a student that Snape probably didn't have a sex life or he wouldn't be so mean. Harry hadn't actually seen Snape hanging around Professor Rook any more than necessary; the new professor was most certainly much too cheerful for Snape. He had simply used that as an excuse to see if his fellow professors had any details Harry didn't. No such luck, and now Snape was probably pissed off. Fuck.

* * *

That evening after dinner, Harry knocked on the door to Snape's quarters, then opened it at the irritated, "What do you want?" he heard from inside. 

"Sorry to bother you, Professor," he said, closing the door behind him and walking forward a few steps. Most of the other professors wanted him to call them by their first names. Snape, of course, had never extended that invitation.

"Obviously not too sorry, or you wouldn't be here," Snape responded. "I repeat, what do you want?"

"I, uh, just wanted to apologize for what Oliver said earlier."

"You made a pointless trip, then, as I am not going to forgive you for something someone else said. Not that I particularly care anyway. I have heard much worse, and from younger students at that."

"Oh." Harry bit his lip and glanced around the room. Snape didn't give him long to think.

"Is that it, or is there some other reason you're forcing your presence on me."

"Would you like to have dinner with me the night before the children get back?" Fuck. Oh, great, bloody fuck. Where had that come from? Oh God. What if Snape wasn't gay? What if Snape . . . Gryffindor courage or not, Harry didn't think he wanted to deal with whatever insults Snape would come up with in response.

Snape started at him for a moment, and something Harry couldn't interpret flashed in his eyes, but all he said was, "I think not, Mr. Potter. Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do."

That was it? While Harry had definitely not expected a "yes," he hadn't thought he'd get off so lightly. He had expected to be insulted, possibly hexed, and given a long list of all the reasons Snape would never deign to have dinner with one Boy-Who-Lived. He turned and left before Snape could live up to Harry's expectations.

TBC

* * *

Coming soon in chapter 2:

_Snape's office door slammed back against the wall. "What do you mean you think not?" Harry exclaimed._

A/N: Although I only have a vague idea of where this is going, it will be a short story. Unless a plot bunny comes my way, there will only be one or two more chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

For disclaimer & Author's Notes, see chapter 1.

CHAPTER TWO

Harry only had a few days to reflect on the most recent incident with Snape before the children returned to Hogwarts. Then, during the first week back, he was too busy with lesson plans and grading to think any longer about his rejection.

Until Friday afternoon, that is. Harry sat in his office, worrying away. Why had Snape turned him down like that? Insults, he could have handled. If Snape had told him we was straight, that would have been fine, too. Well, maybe not _fine, _per se, as Harry had several fantasies involving Snape that he wanted to try out. Like the one with the strawberries, chocolate syrup, and feathers . . . _Enough about that, _Harry thought, before his trousers could become much snugger.

But to just say, "I think not, Mr. Potter" with that odd look in his eyes? That seemed so Un-Snape-like. The more he thought about, the angrier Harry got. What kind of answer was that? Shouldn't he have gotten _some_ sort of explanation, even if it was just something about Harry being too stupid or immature for Snape's tastes?

That was it. He needed to have a talk with the Potions Master. Every professor had a schedule of all of the other professors. Harry consulted it and saw that Snape, like Harry, was done teaching for the day, and would be holding office hours for a little while. Mind made up, though not yet knowing what he would say, Harry left his own office and went in search of Snape's, irritation still bubbling up inside him. It was one of the first times that passing students had ever seen him glaring as he walked the halls.

* * *

Snape's office door slammed back against the wall. "What do you mean you think not?" Harry exclaimed forcefully.

Startled black eyes met bright green for a brief moment before Snape's control re-exerted itself. All he said was, "I'm busy, Mr. Potter, and I do not take kindly to being interrupted."

"Tough," Harry said, with a feral grin that was much closer to a snarl. Without looking behind him, he kicked the door shut with his heel, and threw a wandless locking and silencing charm at it.

"Mr. Potter!" Snape growled, rising menacingly to his feet, arms crossing his chest and glare escalating by the second.

Harry took a couple deep breaths, realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere if they had a shouting match. Once calmer, he strode over to the nearest student chair and moved it closer to Snape's desk. "Actually," he managed with a tiny smile, "it's _Professor_ Potter. Although I don't know why I bother, since in the past reminding you of that made no difference."

"No, it didn't, and it won't now. Why are you here?"

Taking a deep breath and looking Snape in the eye, Harry said, "Why won't you have dinner with me?"

"Why should I have dinner with you?"

"Because I asked. Nicely, too." He paused. "Look, Professor, back in Seventh Year we were starting to get along, surprisingly enough. I would like to resume what friendship we had."

"Hmph." Snape stared at him for a several moments, then sat back down at his desk. "That's it, then?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "You could not have said that over a week ago when you first made the request?"

"Uh . . ."

"Eloquent as always, aren't we?"

_Bastard. Well, may as well bite the Muggle bullet, instead of just worrying about it_. Harry decided to be honest. Somewhat. Snape didn't need to know just yet about the fantasy Harry had been thinking about earlier. "Well, I, uh, I guess I didn't just want to resume our friendship. I thought maybe we could extend it a bit."

"Extend? A bit?"

Damn the man. Surely he knew Harry was uncomfortable. Couldn't he help out at least a little bit? _Of course not, _Harry answered his own question. _He wouldn't be Snape otherwise, and, God help me, Snape is the man I want to be with._

Even so, he said, "You're not making this easy," before going on. "I guess when I asked if you would have dinner with me, I meant it to be more of a, um, you know, a date?" _Way to be confident, Harry._ He ignored the little voice and added, "I'd like to think that I know you well enough to know you'd have hexed me out the door if you weren't interested at least in what I'm saying. Does that mean yes?"

"It means, Mr. Potter, that perhaps I'll think about it."

Harry felt a flare of annoyance, but pushed it down. He was not going to let the man get to him, and he _certainly_ wasn't going to leave empty-handed, so to speak. Unless Snape wanted to use force, Harry wasn't going anywhere until he had a definite yes or no. "Fine," he said, "think away." He settled back in his chair, crossed his arms comfortably across his chest, and looked at Snape, smiling.

"I did not mean _now_, Mr. Potter."

"I know you didn't." Still, Harry didn't move. He knew he was taking a risk. Snape could easily throw him out, but something told him Snape didn't really want to fight him on this, at least not yet. He was fairly certain he'd have already been tossed out on his ear otherwise.

"You are the _most_ insufferable, impertinent, little _brat._" Snape was standing again, and once again the glare was escalating.

"Yeah, yeah, and you're the most snarky, irritable, mean-spirited git. I'm not likely to change any time soon, and I'm sure _you_ won't. So will you have dinner with me?"

"Fine, _Potter_, I will have dinner with you." It was said through gritted teeth.

Not the most pleasant of acceptances, but Harry would take it. Snape wouldn't have agreed if he was really set against it. He knew not to rub it in the man's face, though, and managed to keep his ecstatic grin inside until he had left Snape's office. Only sheer force of will kept him from practically skipping back to his own office. Now he just had to decide where he would take the man, because he was afraid dinner in his quarters might be too uncomfortably intimate for their first date.

Their first date! Snape had agreed to go on a date with him! Him! The Boy-Who-Lived to Exasperate Potions Masters!

Oh, Merlin, what was he going to _wear?_

TBC

* * *

Coming soon in Chapter Three (or at least an approximation of this):

_He had been waiting for this day for over a week, but now he found he didn't know what to say to Snape._

A/N: Hope you like it. Please review so I know if I should continue.


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